


Hickory Hickory Dock

by Oriberry



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: And Belle has to fix it, F/M, Fluff, Gold is a mouse, magic goes awry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-20 03:30:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11912295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oriberry/pseuds/Oriberry
Summary: It's just a normal afternoon in the pawn shop, if you ignore the fact that Mr Gold has accidentally been turned into a mouse. It seems that trying to amuse Belle by showing off his magical knowledge has backfired (all magic does come with a price after all). Luckily Belle's research skills mean it should be fairly easy to reverse the spell...





	1. Chapter 1

There’s an incredibly loud bang and for a few moments all Belle can hear is a horribly loud ringing in her ears. She fans her face to clear the purple smoke that’s swirling around her, making her cough and splutter. 

She’s not one to swear but What. The...

Once the smoke starts to dispel her worst fears are confirmed because explosions are bad. Brightly coloured smoke is even worse. She’s a magical novice but even Belle knows that nothing good ever comes from explosions and smoke.

Where Gold, her employer and sort-of-friend, was once standing there is now a very small, rather sheepish looking rodent. It’s got silky grey fur, tiny feet that are scrabbling for purchase on the shop’s glass counter, luscious long whiskers and dark as night beady eyes that are currently fixed on Belle’s face, conveying utter disbelief at his predicament. 

She has always known that Gold is a hoarder and occasionally over their afternoon tea and ginger cake she’s managed to persuade him to talk about some of the curios he keeps around the shop: old wooden puppets; ornately carved hand mirrors; millefiori paperweights; ivory letter openers. Even more rarely, he’s shown her how the less powerful of his magical objects work, to her never ending delight. For a quiet man, Gold can be quite the showman when he puts his mind to it. 

So when Gold had caved in to Belle’s never ending inquisitiveness (“fine, fine, if it means you’ll stop plaguing me”) and was showing her a beautifully etched antique glass phial, filled with a glimmering, shimmering viscous liquid, the last thing either of them expected was for the phial to shatter into a thousand diamond-sharp pieces that circled around Gold’s head before a thunderclap of noise resulted in - 

Gold being turned into a mouse and Belle almost certainly needing to look for another job.

Tamping down the panic that is beating a fast rhythm in her throat, Belle steadies her breathing by studying Gold, who she has to admit looks far less intimidating in his current form although she reckons he could still give her a nasty nip if he wanted. He’s currently pitter-pattering around the counter, stopping every now and then to look at his reflection in the glass.

Well at least one of them seems to be fairly relaxed about what's just happened.

Now Belle loves a good puzzle, something that challenges her brain into thinking differently about how to do things but she has to admit that she is at a loss to know what to do. Is this a temporary transformation that will naturally resolve itself once the spell wears off? Or is it even something that she can fix? What if it's permanent? If the former (please god) then all she has to worry about is applying for jobs and avoiding Granny’s for the rest of eternity; if the latter, well for a start she knows nothing about mouse welfare and for another, what is Archibald (Belle's lazy good-for-nothing tabby cat) going to make of it? 

Mentally pulling herself together (no point worrying about the unknown) Belle decides to tackle this one step at a time. First things first, she needs to do some research and not for the first time she’s thankful she managed to persuade Gold - a self declared IT luddite - to purchase a secondhand laptop last month despite his lack of enthusiasm at the prospect of joining the 21st century (“what pray is wrong with index cards?”) 

A quick google search tells her that mice (1) will eat anything but for a healthy diet, a mix of seeds and fruit is best, (2) need to be handled carefully as they like to bite and (3) they get bored easily and need to be kept amused. 

Belle’s not sure that Gold, used to rather more refined dining, is going to enjoy his new diet.

And she’s also not sure how best to amuse Mouse Gold. It takes quite a lot of effort to get him to just quirk an eyebrow at the best of times. Maybe just let Archie chase him around the apartment; that should keep him busy and active.

Nibbling her bottom lip, Belle returns to the counter to see Gold is busy cleaning his whiskers. No surprise there she thinks, he’s the most fastidious man she knows; his hair is never out of place, his nails are always beautifully manicured and his tailoring is immaculate. Pulling some tissue paper from a draw and placing it in front of him, Gold stops preening and gets busy shredding the paper into equally sized pieces before settling himself down in the centre of it and fixing a pair of beady eyes on Belle. He looks rather reproachful.

Feeling more than a trifle daft for talking to a mouse she offers up an apology. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. I know what you’re thinking. That if I’d just left you in peace to fix the trinket box instead of badgering you about the medicine set you wouldn’t be -” and Belle gestures helplessly at him - “like this.”

The mouse emits a tiny huff but deigns to leave his nest and sidles over to the end of the counter before rubbing his nose against her hand. Belle turns it palm upwards and Gold steps daintily up and onto it so she can lift him until they’re at eye level with each other.

Belle hopes he can understand her. 

“Do you have any books in the back that might help me reverse the spell?” The mouse shakes his head. “How about at your house, then?” This time he nods. The house it is then, and Belle cannot help the tiny shiver of excitement that runs down her spine. She’s been angling for an invitation to dinner, or lunch, or coffee or whatever, for what feels like a lifetime, but Gold jealously guards his privacy and so although obviously (obviously) she wouldn’t wish this on her friend, she has to admit to feeling just a little thrilled that she’s finally going to get her foot over the threshold because so far dropping off freshly baked muffins hasn’t worked worked (how delicious Belle, thank you but don’t let me keep you). Nor for that matter has offering him cuttings from her garden (how thoughtful Belle, thank you but don’t let me keep you), or providing him with a personalised book loaning service (in fact she’d had to forcibly restrain herself from whacking him over the head with Far From the Madding Crowd when he quietly thanked her but he’d read it already and besides, he didn’t want to keep her from doing whatever it was he thought she was desperate to be doing).

Belle puts on her best Not Interested In The Slightest at the Prospect of Snooping look but the way the mouse’s eyes are twinkling, she suspects he’s seen right through her. Huffing quietly, Belle tells Gold that she’s shutting up shop and they’ll be on their way shortly. She fishes in his coat pocket for the bunch of keys she knows he keeps there and then searches for a suitable receptacle for the short car journey over to the pink (he can protest it’s salmon all he likes but Belle knows better) house. Casting around, her eyes land on a pretty china soap dish adorned with violets and roses and she can’t help smiling at the squeak when she pops Gold into it.

“Hush,” she admonishes. “It’s only for five minutes and then you’ll be home.” A long nose whiffles the air appreciatively and Belle just can’t. It’s just too ridiculous. Gold is actually adorable. She toys with the idea of sharing this with him but a sense of survival kicks in so instead she grabs her jacket, scarf and her boss and off they go, stepping out into a cool, blustery October evening


	2. Chapter 2

Belle parks up outside Gold’s house. The sky is dark and clear now, with a dusting of stars starting to show. Walking up the pathway, jingling the keys, her boots make the leaves lying there rustle and crunch underfoot. It’s her favourite time of year; the air is crisp and cool and it reminds her of bonfires and toffee apples. At the front door she pauses to admire, as she always does, the coloured panes of glass glowing rich reds and emerald greens before sliding the key in the lock. A satisfying click and gentle push and she’s stepping over the threshold into what she truly hopes is a dragon’s lair filled with rare and precious treasures.

Clicking the light on bathes the hallway in a gently warming light, and Belle hesitates for a moment before carefully placing Gold on a handily placed sideboard, next to a vase of white roses. She slips her coat and scarf off and then, feeling less uncomfortable than she thought she might, collects Gold and goes in search of his library, guided by his squeaks and bristling whiskers.

When she finds it, she can’t help the sigh of satisfaction that escapes her lips. It’s perfect. Better than perfect in fact. Heavy brocade curtains, two deep armchairs in the darkest of brown leather and a mother of pearl inlay half table holding a cut glass decanter and a bottle of what looks like an expensive bottle of brandy are exactly how she has imagined this room to look like. And as a bonus, she can see an antique globe, a pair of dark green reading lights on a writing desk and best of all, shelf after shelf jam packed with all sorts of books that she’s itching to get her hands on. 

Focus, Belle, focus.

She clears her throat, still feeling slightly ridiculous conversing with a mouse. “Right - er - I’m going to be very disappointed if you don’t have at least one bookshelf dedicated to magical tomes so how about I let you run around and show me where we need to start.”

Tipping Gold gently out, she watches as he tip taps his way along one end of the room until slowing down in front of a thin book with gold lettering on the spine. It doesn’t look very inspiring but when she dares to question him, she’s treated to a beady stare. Well, she might as well start there, she supposes. 

Belle places the book on the arm of the chair and then throws Gold an apologetic glance. She’s feeling quite thirsty and guesses that he’s probably starving so she asks if he can bear to wait while she sorts out some food and drink for them both. Gold makes what she thinks is an encouraging squeak so together they head off to the kitchen. When Belle sees it she can’t help an excited squeak of her own that makes the mouse jump. It’s heavenly, she thinks, admiring the black and white floor tilings, a welsh dresser filled with mismatched blue and white tableware, and bunches of dried herbs hanging from an exposed wooden beam. Belle had been expecting cold and sterile but instead it’s wonderfully eclectic, and warm and inviting. She could live the rest of her life in this house, splitting her time between here and the library. 

Rummaging through the cupboards, she finds a bag of cashew nuts which she chops into tiny pieces and then adds in some diced apple before mixing them together and putting them on a saucer. Collecting some cheese and a bottle of red wine, she puts all the goodies and Gold on a tray and returns to the study, settling in for a long night’s worth of research.

~00000~

Something has woken Belle and for a moment she is completely disorientated. All she knows is that there’s a heavy weight on her but that’s as far as it goes. Perhaps that third (or was it fourth) glass of wine was a mistake. Her head and mouth are both unpleasantly fuzzy. She shakes her head, trying to dislodge the buzzing bees that have apparently taken up residence and looks around her. And suddenly stiffens.

The cause of the heaviness is five feet seven or so’s worth of pink house owner. It seems the spell’s worn off. As have his clothes. Gold is naked. Very naked. Completely and utterly naked. And who is sprawled across her lap, a look on his face that is a mixture of shock and horror.

Squeaking Belle reaches for a cushion to cover her eyes, at the same time she feels Gold leaping to his feet. Reaching behind her she tugs a blanket free and tosses it at him and is relieved (disappointed) to see him wrap it around his waist. 

Belle struggles for a suitable opening gambit. She doesn’t think squawking ‘put your clothes on,’ while what she’s thinking, is a very elegant start to what is probably going to be a deeply uncomfortable conversation because finding the man you're crushing on displaying rather a lot of flesh isn't awkward in the slightest.

“Gold, you’re back.” (Not quite what she was after perhaps but it’s nicely to the point.)

“It’s good to see that your powers of observation have not completely abandoned you,” comes the dry reply. “As you so keenly point out I am indeed back. And not a moment too soon. Any longer and my wine cellar would have been completely depleted of stock," and Gold nods over at the empty bottle resting on what is almost certainly an expensive coffee table. She hopes it hasn't left a ring mark.

Gold has apparently regained his equilibrium and Belle marvels at how, even now, wrapped in what looks like a tartan horse rug he’s managing to look unruffled. She wishes the same could be said for her but she’s pretty sure her cheeks are flushed and her hair is dishevelled. Belle pushes herself up from the sofa, studying the floor with great interest. Anything to not look at him.

“Fascinating isn’t it? Gold asks. Belle lifts her gaze to send a questioning look his way and he quirks an eyebrow at her before pointing at the carpet.

“Axminster. Only the best you know,” he explains.

“It’s certainly very--” Belle tries to think of the best way to describe the pattern which is currently doing funny things to her eyes. “Swirly.”

Gold hums quietly but says nothing to further the conversation and Belle’s all out of polite conversation with a man who she likes a little too much, and who obviously doesn’t feel the same way. It’s late, she’s drunk and it’s a long walk home so it’s time she made a move. Maybe the hour's walk will sober her up so she won’t care so much that he doesn’t care.

Plastering a polite smile onto her face Belle starts to bid Gold goodnight but he arrests her departure by placing his hand on her arm. He studies her face and the scrutiny makes her blush.

“I’m very grateful Belle,” he says gently. “You could have left me to my own devices but you looked after me and tried your very best to help. You're very -” and he trails off, settling for a wave of his other hand.

Belle smiles a more genuine smile this time. “Well, you were a very cute mouse, what with those whiskers and the tiny paws.” She hesitates, before continuing. “It was nothing Gold, really it was no big deal and it’s all turned out well in the end.” He’s still standing there, an odd expression on his face and she’s not sure what’s going on in that clever head of his but she’s too tired to try and work out his inner workings. She needs to get away from him.

As she looks around for her coat, almost inconsequentially Belle adds “And you’re going to catch your death just wearing that blanket.” Still he says nothing, dark eyes that give nothing away. And then they flick - so briefly as to be almost imperceptible - to Belle’s mouth. Panicking she runs her tongue along her lips, worried they’re stained black with traces of the wine she’s been drinking all night, oh and this time there’s no mistake because here’s another downwards glance which lingers a little longer than is quite polite.

He takes a very small but very deliberate step towards her.

“Do you have any suggestions as to how I might warm myself up?” he murmurs and his voice sounds so much lower and so much more Scottish than usual, rolling his ‘r’s’ in a way that sets Belle’s stomach fluttering.

Another step forwards until they’re almost touching. Belle is highly aware that there is just a blanket standing between her and Gold’s rather large estate (well name any girl who wouldn’t have sneaked at least one peek if she was to wake up to find her naked employer lying on top of them).

She takes a bemused moment to reevaluate all her previous perceptions of Gold’s interest in her because it appears she’s read him all wrong since if the tenting in the blanket is anything to go by he’s very much up for this. Belle can’t hold back a chuckle when she realises what she’s just thought but this dies in the back of her throat when Gold growls “Is something amusing you Miss French. Care to explain?”

She shakes her head and Gold hmmms. “Not so brave now I see,” he whispers and Belle is never able to resist a challenge. Her head jerks up and fierce sky blue eyes meet brown ones brimming with mischief. “Oh that hit a nerve I see,” he continues in a provocative tone before leaning down to whisper in her ear, “So prove me wrong. I dare you.”

An adrenaline rush pulses through Belle and before she gives herself time to think she whips the blanket off and tosses it over her shoulder, leaving Gold gloriously, wonderfully naked in front of her. Before she has time to do more than carry out a very quick but very enjoyable once over, Gold is on her, nimble fingers undoing the buttons on her dress and sliding it up over her head leaving her in (thank God) her nicest, laciest underwear and garters. 

Judging by the way he's licking his way down to the tiny red bow decorating her bra, it seems her choice of lingerie meets with his approval. Her hands reach round to pull him in even closer and his cock is trapped between them, hot and heavy. He nuzzles his way back up to her mouth and then his tongue is tangling with hers. The kiss is all teeth and warmth and wetness but although there's nothing refined about it, to Belle it's perfect. They can explore each other more slowly later but now it's pure sensation and heady lust.

She feels herself being edged backwards until her knees hit the edge of the sofa and she topples over, Gold landing on top of her, arms and legs tangling together. "It feels like we've been here before," he says, before sliding a hand down to between her legs. She's wet and slippery and comes embarrassingly quickly, gasping against his shoulder. Gold pulls her protectively against him and drags the blanket over them before delicately licking his fingers clean. It's positively indecent and Belle is thrilled.

She feels Gold chuckle, the sensation vibrating through her. "Well, that's certainly warmed me up," he says but that's the last complete sentence he utters for some time because Belle has shifted beneath him and he needs to focus his attention on her and all the delicious sensations enveloping him. Before long all he's capable of is a sequence of curse words and nonsensical babbling. It seems Belle's found another way to keep the cold at bay.


End file.
